


Rest Easy

by tackypanda



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Referenced Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tackypanda/pseuds/tackypanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor has a pointed conversation with Madame de Fer. Then she manages to fall asleep - right on top of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rest Easy

Vivienne didn’t get many visitors to her little corner of Skyhold, aside from officers or the occasional curious Dagna; it suited her, how the rest of the hold seemed to either respect or fear her too much to intrude. Of course, she didn’t count the Inquisitor, who came by so often and so many times during the same day that she might as well have considered it an extension of her quarters. She didn’t mind terribly; Niobe was an ambitious woman, not quite as much as herself, who shared much of her beliefs and was already doing well to earn herself and the Inquisition great glory. Not to mention it was quite obvious to everyone how smitten she was with Vivienne, and she always came to the enchanter first when she needed an opinion, giving her an even greater hand in influencing every decision than she had planned. So, yes, despite the lack of notice (and formality after a while), their visits were most agreeable.

Except a time like this, when Niobe marched through the door, hugging her arms to her chest, and sat down on the chaise next to Vivienne with only a grunt. Vivienne didn’t look up from her book until she reached the end of the page, but she didn’t need to to know the state the Inquisitor was in or the cause.

“You absolutely reek of alcohol, you know.” Vivienne folded the book closed in her lap, the faintest of frowns passing over her face before she turned towards her. The drinking was a problem, that much was known already, but she’d never stunk from it before. “Were you not supposed to assist in training new recruits today?”

Niobe scoffed, unfolding her brawny arms to scratch at her head. “This new batch was full of fuc– full of idiots. That much I can deal with, whip ‘em into some shape on the first day and have Rutherford and Blackwall and  _whoever_  keep with it the rest. But the mouth on this one Marcher, thinking he’s so high and mighty ‘cause his Inquisitor’s a Marcher - like that makes us related or somethin’. So he starts going off, saying havin’ dwarves and qunari in our ranks is poison, what are all these damned Orlesians doin’ here, he should be leading the charge. So naturally I took the swill I was nursing ‘cause he was giving me a damn headache and threw it in his face.”

Vivienne almost laughed at the image. Almost. “Now Niobe, was that really any way to deal with him?”

“Don’t you ‘now Niobe’ me, you weren’t there!” She snorted, looking at Vivienne fondly. “Though if you were, you probably coulda said something so cutting he’d shit his pants. Or held me back, at least.”

Vivienne smirked, patting Niobe’s hand - only for her skin to be sticky with dried ale. She pursed her lips and stood from the chaise, grabbing her handkerchief from the table a little ways away. “Do wash up as soon as you’re able, dear.” She returned to her seat. “As much a triumph as you must believe this is, you should not be acting like a ruffian. As Inquisitor, you must be above this, I’ve told you  _time_  and time again.”

Niobe grunted, picking at the spot on her trousers where some ale had spilled and stained the fabric. “Well forgive me if I didn’t take a thousand ages to think about what I was doing; sometimes you’ve just gotta go with your gut when you’re dealing with a jackass.”

“ _My_ gut tells me to think my decisions through, regardless if you feel a kneejerk reaction is justified. You must use your words.” She definitely thought her next comment through. “You’re not a drunk lazing about a tavern looking for a fight.”

Niobe’s expression fell instantly, and Vivienne did her best to ignore the pang of guilt. She did this often, shaming her for her vices and reckless fighting style; the intention was only to encourage her to improve upon those things, but some were harsher than others.

“Not anymore, I guess.” Niobe chewed on the inside of her cheek, but was back to smiling crookedly soon enough. “I stab with the sharp edge of my maul, not my tongue.” She yawned. “Madame.”

Vivienne rose a brow, unable to fight a smile in reply. “Is our conversation boring you, Inquisitor?”

Niobe blinked, then shook her head resolutely. “Oh, oh no - forgive me. Didn’t sleep well last night is all.” She rolled her broad shoulders back. “If you don’t mind, though, may I stay with you, for a bit? Don’t feel much like going back out there right away, need to cool off.”

Vivienne nodded, patting her knee this time. “Of course, darling. Do keep in mind I’m reading.”

Niobe did nothing to disturb her; in fact, after only a few minutes, even her usually audible breathing had quieted. Vivienne was nearing concern - until Niobe promptly tipped over, her cheek smacking against her back; she was asleep already, and clearly not easy to rouse. Vivienne sat completely still for a moment, her thought process about what to do growing a bit hazy as she registered the errant strands of hair tickling the skin under her ear, the warm breaths that fanned over her bare back, the presence and  _weight_  of someone else.

Regaining the rest of her senses, she chuckled and set the book on the floor so she could remove herself from Niobe as gently as possible. She laid her down gingerly on the chaise, who promptly whipped her arm out to hang off the edge and stretched her long legs out as far as possible. Content, Vivienne took a seat in one of the armchairs across from her and resumed reading. Niobe let out the occasional snore, but never frequent or disruptive enough to be cause to turn her away.

An hour passed before an officer appeared in the doorway. “Pardon me, Madame Vivienne, but when we couldn’t find the Inquisitor in her quarters or the training yard, we figured she must be here.” She smiled slightly. “She is needed in the war room.”

Her smile promptly grew bigger and faker. “The advisors can wait, dear; Lady Trevelyan has had an eventful afternoon, it’s best she be left to her rest.”

The officer paled, adjusting his collar. “They want to address what happened in the courtyard; apparently the recruit’s a nobleman’s son and he’s threatening to–”

“Withdraw his family’s support? I wouldn’t be surprised if such a self-important little man was sent here by his family so he could die in battle and erase any shame he’d caused them. Such posturing will get him nowhere other than the street of whatever backwater city-state he hails from for bringing the family name even more shame.” The smile turned to a smirk. “Besides, more sponsors will rush to take their place.”

The officer sputtered, shakily re-positioning his helmet. “I don’t… they still wish to see Lady Trevelyan.”

“To what? Debate over which of their three separate suggestions on how she should handle the situation is best?” She cast a look back at Niobe, still sleeping undisturbed. “They can wait another hour or so; off with you, dear, go on.” He opened his mouth to debate, but the steely edge to her gaze had him on his way with a groan of defeat. Satisfied, she returned to her chair and her book - but not without brushing some of Niobe’s hair away from her mouth first.


End file.
